Sometimes Words Aren't Enough
by LizaGirl
Summary: One Shot: Post New Haven Nate realises that getting on the train wasn’t the best idea he’s ever had. Slash. Chuck/Nate.


**Post New Haven Nate realises that getting on the train wasn't the best idea he's ever had.**

Chuck was letting a young brunette with wide eyes and a strong jaw line out the door of his suite when Nate showed up. Normally Chuck would make some claim about it being a dealer or give some other excuse as to why there were pretty men coming out of his room, but he's just too tired, and sad and angry. Only a little at Humphrey but mostly at Nate, who should know him better, because if he didn't, no one did.

After staring wide-eyed at the leaving man and frowning in confusion at the lack of an explanation, Nate just asked "Can I come in?"

Chuck nodded. He could never say no. Instead, he fixed himself a drink and didn't offer one to Nathanial.

"Will you look at me?" Nate finally demanded.

Chuck downed his drink, poured another one and then turned.

"I already sent the money to your mother." He stated "there's no need to come here on bended knee."

Nate clenched his jaw "I didn't come here for money." He stated softly. He sat at the end of the unmade bed and made sure not to look too closely.

"Humphrey bored you that quickly then?" Chuck downed his second drink "can't say I blame you." He turned to pour a third in as many minutes.

Nate stood, awkwardly, and stepped closer. He doesn't know how to deal with Chuck when he's like this, because he's never been like this with him. The stone cold walls that surround the Bass heir have never kept him out before, but they do now and he might as well be Dan Humphrey for the way Chuck's treating him, or rather, not. He's not treating him like anything at all.

"I'm sorry" Nate said softly. "I'm really sorry."

It's not enough. Chuck's heard empty apologies his entire life. Nate's never done anything that's required an apology before.

Chuck could laugh it off, accept the apology, but he doesn't want to.

"What's to be sorry for?" he questioned "and I'm ordering in. I was thinking blonde and leggy. Did you want a blonde or are brunettes more your type again."

Chuck's tone is so cold, calm and fucking empty it's like someone's torn a hole in Nate as well.

He wrapped his hand around Chuck's. The one holding the glass, so that Chuck couldn't take another drink. Nate wondered if he'd caused this, or whether this had been going on already and he'd just not noticed.

"Tell me how to fix this."

"There's nothing to fix except your new love of public transport. For all I know you've caught something." Chuck frowned distastefully.

"I know about Dan." Nate insisted "I asked him about it."

Chuck pulled away, seizing an empty glass and the half full bottle.

"I don't really possess a need to hear about you're little bromance, Nathanial."

"He didn't tell me, but I could tell he'd done something. What did he do to make you hate him so much?"

"get out!"

Chuck stated quietly.

"What?"

"Get out of my suite Nathanial. I'll see you at school tomorrow. I'm sure you can find someone to hang out with in Brooklyn."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me!" Nate insisted

"It wasn't a suggestion."

"Come on Chuck" Nate sounded incredulous, which only pissed Chuck off more. For a guy who preferred to use his wit rather than his fists, Chuck is surprisingly fast and Nate is ill prepared to have the door wrenched open and him shoved out of it.

"Chuck" Nate pounded on the door. "Let me in. We're not finished."

Chuck picked up the controller to his stereo system and turned up the White Stripes to the point where the volume became distorted. Then he turned in up a little more and walked into the bathroom, stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower. Even in the shower he took gulps of the bottle of scotch his clutched. It mixed with the water gushing from the showerhead.

He's not sure how long he stays in the shower. A lack of hot water has no meaning for him, but all his skin shrivelled and he finished the rest of the whisky as he sat on the shower floor. The water rained down on the top of his head.

The White Stripes playlists had finished so he towelled off his hair and pulled on a pair of soft sleep pants. Even though he knew he wouldn't be there, he headed for the door. He wanted to prove it too himself. He had no one. Nate wasn't an exception, no one was. Chuck Bass was best alone. It was a fact of nature. He peered out the peephole, no one was there. He couldn't explain the disappointment he felt and slowly he undid the dead lock on the door. Nate could get in with his key then. If he came back. He swung open the door just to check, to be sure and couldn't help start at the boy leaning against the wall next to his door.

Chuck let out a sigh. "Nathanial."

Bending down he grabbed one of Nathanial's arms and wrapped the other around the boy's waist.

"What?" Nathanial woke.

"Calm down." Chuck shoved him in the direction of the couch "you can't exactly afford a chiropractor at the moment."

Chuck climbed into his own bed, rolling onto his side and ignoring Nate, who stood by the couch, watching. Finally, Nate made an executive decision. He pulled off his sweater, kicked off his shoes and finally unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them off too, before pulling back the other side of the covers and climbing in.

"Don't make me throw you out again, because I will."

"What did he do Chuck?"

"He turned me into a Reader's Digest piece."

"What?"

"His great masterpiece, the one that's going to get him into Yale, scholarship and all. The one he was going to have published, it was about me."

"What? like you're a character?"

"I'm _the_ character. It was an analysis of why the troubled, wealthy Charlie Trout has such an awful relationship with his father."

"I'm sorry." Nate apologised.

"You weren't the one stupid enough to tell him about your mother."

Nate winced. Apart from Blair and maybe Eric he doubted anyone knew about Chuck's mother.

"I should never have gone with him"

"You did what you wanted to do."

Nate cupped his face and couldn't help but notice that Chuck's normally perfect hair was wet and messy.

"I'm sorry" Nate didn't know how many times he would have to apologise.

"Apologies don't mean anything" Chuck told him, and Nate knew it was true.

Nate swallowed roughly. It was now or never.

"Did you sleep with Dan? Is that why you told him?"

"No" Chuck spat dismissively. He rolled onto his back, staring at the roof.

"Sorry, I just don't exactly know what you're type is." Nate stared up at the ceiling wondering what Chuck saw found so captivating.

Chuck took a deep breath. This was the first time his sexual activities and their diversity had verbally been recognised. "Even if I had slept with him, I wouldn't have just told him about my mother."

Nate nodded and asked softly "So why did you?"

"Because it seemed like he was on my side." He gave a mocking chuckle "don't worry you're pretty little head about it, Nathanial. It's not like anyone listens to Dan Humphrey these days anyway."

Nate's eyes searched Chuck's face. "I want to make it up to you, catching the train."

Chuck looked away first, back at that roof that Nate was growing to hate. He didn't speak. So Nate moved. Actions, decisions, choices, it seemed. Where what would take the day. He moved awkwardly over Chuck, resting on one arm. Chuck watched, as though waiting to see just how far Nate would take this.

He waited until Nate had hesitated and then pressed forward. It was only when Nate was an inch from his lips that he spoke.

"Enough, Nathanial." It was clear and direct and made Nate frown, almost with disappointment. "I'm not Catherine, I don't want you around for your body. I have delivery boys for that."

Nate let out a sigh "you knew?"

"yeah."

"and you didn't say anything?" Nate asked. Part of him twinged at knowing he didn't have to go it alone.

"You picked her" Chuck stated. The _again_ is silent. Because as much as Chuck knows that Nate would always come first (except for that one time, and really, she was only so gorgeous because he wanted her), Nate has a history of bad choices and misjudged decisions.

"It was just sex" Nate swore. He was still awkwardly perched and in another case of a bad decisions let him hips take some of the weight, pressing down onto Chuck.

Chuck's eyes intensified, there was a tiny, almost unnoticeable catch in his breath Nate felt, rather than heard and then he felt something else. Still, they weren't at the point of no return. This could still be written off as hormonal teenagers and close contact.

Then Nate kissed him. Hard and soft and long and sweet.

"We're not just sex." He insisted. Chuck didn't say anything. "and I really really want to make up for not getting in the car with you."

The part of Chuck that had been telling him for years that his Nathanial was off limits told him to stop. At the very least to check "are you sure?" but Nate's lips were soft and insistant on his, and he could just sense the tip of his tongue and feel the roughness of the stubble that stopped Nate from being completely baby faced.

He couldn't help it, Nate was too perfect, and ultimately he was Chuck Bass, and Nate was his Nathanial, and that was all there was too it.


End file.
